


First Time in Hell

by waywardtayakf



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Light BDSM, New Orleans, Reader Insert, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 16:15:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11558823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardtayakf/pseuds/waywardtayakf





	First Time in Hell

Living in New Orleans had its perks as a human. I learned many things from my neighbor, including how to make beignets and some voodoo. Beignets were my speciality and what I was known for around the city. People would come from miles around the city to taste my sweet, powdery pastry. I remember one time Ms. Annie introduced me to this family she cleaned for when she lived near the Garden District, that’s what people call it now. They could not believe I made those beignets and thought they tasted just like Ms. Annie’s. Little did they know she taught me how to make them. Just like she taught me how to make them pay when they jipped me. Long after Ms. Annie died, I still practiced voodoo in the back of my beignet shop. It’s funny how people like a little sweet with their wicked ways. 

I will never forget the day I met him or the way he looked at me when he walked in the store. “Hello, darling,” he drawled with an accent I didn’t recognize. It wasn’t one that we heard too often in my part of New Orleans. He looked at me as if he knew everything about me and could see right through me. No one had looked at me like that before. 

“Yes, sir. What can I do for ya,” I asked with a strained smile as I tried to quickly build up a wall so he couldn’t see all of my secrets. 

“I hear...you have the best beignets in town.” The mystery man had given me a smile that could stop a carriage in its tracks. 

“I have some hot and fresh right now. How many would you like?” I remember asking him that question in a rushed manner, wanting him out of the shop quickly. 

“A dozen, madam. I also think I can do something for you,” he said this gesturing toward the back room where I usually did my other business. My stomach suddenly fell into knots as my nerves took over. I packaged mystery man’s pastries quickly and lead him to the back room. 

“What can I do for you, sir? I..uh..never got your name.”

“Crowley, miss,” he said as he extended his hand. “I’m in the business to make deals and help lovely people such as yourself. I also see that you’re in a similar business.” Crowley was taking in my voodoo decor with an impressed expression. 

“I know a thing or two,” I said with a shrug. “What do you want from me?” 

“I want to help you...be successful. If you agree, I’ll send for you in ten years. A woman with your talents can start in with a higher paying position.” By now, Crowley was staring straight at me with a devilish grin that had purpose. He knew what I had wanted and was playing it well, but I had my own conditions. 

“If I agree,” I started, “I become a powerful voodoo priestess, get to explore other...interests, and can keep making beignets.”   
“Agreed,” Crowley said as he moved closer to me. When I backed away from him, he grinned and said, “The deal is sealed with a kiss, darling.” 

____________________________________________________________________________

I heard the howling coming across the water. The air had a different feel to it. Almost stiff. Heavy. It was hotter than a normal New Orleans’ night. I knew that howl was for me. My ten years was up and one of Crowley’s hounds was singing my song. Over the ten years, I had learned many things...how to stay young, just what Crowley was, what was making that sound, and where I was about to be going. No amount of voodoo was going to keep that hellhound from me. I had accepted my fate. Afterall, Crowley’s deal had been legitimate. I am a powerful voodoo priestess, I have become quite experienced in certain pleasures, and my beignets are still the best in New Orleans. 

As I sat on my front porch, listening to the howls and growls of the hound grow closer, I began to wonder what would be waiting for me on the other side. Crowley had promised a good position once my time was up. A snap of a branch withdrew me from my thoughts. “Hello, puppy,” I purred, “I’ve been waiting for you.” 

When I awoke, I was greeted with my mystery man from ten years before smiling down at me. “Hello, darling,” Crowley crooned as he stepped out of my view. If this was hell, it didn’t look too bad. A little dingy, but what a castle might look like on the inside. Nearby was a throne in the center of the room surrounded by a row of columns. We were alone, except for the two...demons...outside the door. How did I know what they were? Was I one too?

“Am I in Hell,” I asked outright, wanting answers immediately. 

“Of course. A deal’s a deal. Your time’s up and you’ve become valuable in your years up top, Madame.” Crowley walked out of the room so I quickly followed behind him. Rounding a corner the smell of fire and brimstone hit my nostrils making my eyes water. “You’ll get use to it,” Crowley quipped as he strode on down the hallway. The smells of sorrow and despair wafted through the air as screams rang loudly. 

“Hell’s perfume and nature sounds, huh,” I asked trying to be cute as I caught up to Crowley’s pace. It was depressing, but I liked it for some reason. It made me tingly in all the right places. My hand was itching for the feel of my whip’s leather handle. How much did Crowley know about me? 

As if on cue, Crowley stopped and turned to face me. “You will be called Mistress during your time with me. Sometimes I will need your assistance with other jobs, which is where your voodoo experience will come in, Priestess. For now, Mistress,” he inched closer to me, standing a head taller so I could feel his breath against my skin, “I will ask you to work specifically for me...in here...alone.” Crowley brushed passed me and opened the door to a bright, gleaming room. 

My throat caught as I took in all of the paddles, canes, and whips on the wall. One looked exactly like mine from the back room in the shop. I made my way toward them, feeling Crowley’s eyes on me. Reaching up, I grabbed the one I was sure was mine. The leather was worn on the handle from many years of use. It was soft, but rough to the touch. Especially in the right, experienced hands. This normalcy touched me in a way that I thought was going to be lost. “Is this…,” I began as Crowley came up behind me quietly. 

“Yes, Mistress. I thought this would please you.”

Please me it did. To a point that he was about to learn. Turning quickly to face him, I snapped the whip hard against the floor. The gleam in my eye held my intentions well to him. I knew what Crowley wanted from me and why he sought me out. He knew I was the best at what I did. “You will call me Mistress. There will be no other. Bow if you understand,” I growled watching him quiver from his own growing excitement. Crowley did as he was told with a smirk plastered across his face. Another snap of the whip told him to remove his clothes. I could already see his excitement growing against the folds of his pants. 

Unsure of how far to push him, I wanted to take it easy and enjoy my first time with Crowley. He positioned himself against the wall facing me, watching every move I made. I took my time, teasing him. First, I removed the bodice of my dress revealing a leather corset. Then, I removed the outer layer of my skirts leaving the slip. His body twitched, indicating he wanted more. “Not tonight, darlin’,” I teased. With most clients, I was only in it for their punishment and pleasure but I wouldn’t kiss them. As a now permanent resident of Hell, I thought, What the hell and went for it. 

With heavily lidded eyes, I studied Crowley’s face taking in his features. The stubble on his face looked like it needed to be touched. I gently touched Crowley’s cheek, using my thumb to part his lips. He tried to nip at the tip of my thumb. Pursing my lips together and shaking my head no, I cracked the whip. He never blinked, never jumped. His breathing caught as he grew more excited and he pressed his hips into mine. I gave him a taste of what he wanted. Firmly, I pressed my lips against his, sliding my tongue against his lips. Crowley tasted like whiskey and my beignets. 

He began to push harder into the kiss, pressing his hips into mine before I pulled away. “That’s not how this works, Mr. Crowley,” I teased. “Turn around.” Crowley turned around to face the wall, bracing himself for the impact. 

“Make it good,” Crowley growled in excitement. 

I took a deep breath, tightening my grip on the old familiar whip. Tussling it around on the floor, I cracked it twice to prepare Crowley for the impact. WHAP! It hit with a snap. Red whelps forming. “Don’t stop,” he pleaded. WHAP! It hit again. The whelps turned a deeper red. Crowley growled from pleasure. “Do it again, Mistress. Pleeeease,” he begged. I let myself do it one more time. WHAP! The whip snapped for the last time. 

The last snap had Crowley hissing from pleasure and pain. I came up behind him to address his wounds. “Thank you, darlin’,” I whispered in Crowley’s ear as I turned him to face me. I led him over to a couch he had placed in the room, no doubt for aftercare. After having him sit, I presented him with a tumbler of whiskey and sat beside him, gently caressing the nape of his neck. “I think I’m going to like it here,” I whispered to him as he placed a light kiss on my forehead.


End file.
